He slides to the side and lies on his back, looking up at the ceiling. “I meant that you’re mine.” He flips onto to his side face me.
“Yeah, I heard you.” I roll my eyes. “It was all growly and possessive, but not very Daddy-like. Not the same as other Daddies I’ve been with.”
He frowns now. “I know. It was unlike me. But I’m not the only one that didn’t behave the way they usually are. Not once did you call me Daddy.”
That’s true, so where is my little? If I stop needing that part of my life, will Royal still be interested? He’s Daddy, a carer; everybody says so. He’s respected by all at Bound and has never been described as a rough lover.
So, what’s with today?
I watch thirty gangly thirteen-year-olds racing around the playing field, the rugby ball getting lost in a tangle of legs as they tackle each other. But my mind isn’t on them; it hasn’t been for the last four days. The only person I can think of is Memphis and everything we got up to.
That kind of sex is more Saint, but I can’t lie and say I didn’t enjoy it. Nor can Memphis, not if the way he was screaming out my name is any indication. But that’s the issue, his and mine.
He doesn’t understand why, and I like it more than I thought. When we went on to talk about things he’s done before and liked, as well as things that he didn’t love so much but the partner he was with did. I was surprised when he said he liked being caged, but not as a punishment. He hasn’t given much away about his last Daddy, only that it wasn’t going anywhere. I think another chat with Saint is on the cards.
I see one of the kids getting too boisterous and blow my whistle. “Hey, Archie, back off.”
He raises in his arms in a what did I do motion. I put Memphis out of my head and walk onto the pitch. “Don’t grab the collar of his shirt and tug; you know that’s gonna hurt.”
“He wouldn’t give up the ball. I got it fair and square.”
“Okay, both of you”—I crook my finger to Rafferty— “Come here. Now, no more fighting. You know I’m not just talking about now. You two have had it in for each other for too long. If you can’t play nice, I’ll see you in my office, and we can talk about it there.”
“He’s just pissed off that Malachi likes me more than him.” Raff shrugs as if it’s no big deal that he’s potentially outed both of them. They know I’m gay; I’ve never hidden my sexuality, but it isn’t something I discuss or talk about here.
“No way, man, I ain’t no fa—”
“You say that word, and you’ll be in detention for the remainder of your time at this school. Watch your language.”
Archie does have the decency to blush and mumble an apology, but then their attention is taken by something else. I look around and see Saint leaning against the stone steps, twenty feet away from me. As if summoned by my thoughts.
“Jesus, I’m gay for him,” Archie sighs.
“Get back on the pitch and behave.”
I stroll over to my brother. “What are you doing here? Selling tattoos to underage kids?”
“Noah has a meeting with one of the teachers here, something about additional art classes. I don’t know exactly. I’m his driver.”
“Oh, that’s cool, he’d be good here.”
“I just thought I’d say hi. You’ve gone to ground since the weekend. Too busy Daddy-ing your boy?”
I stare at him. If anything, I was expecting a mouthful from him for what went down at lunch on Sunday.
“What?” Then his eyes narrow. “What happened?”
My eyes are still on the kids when I shake my head. “I can’t talk about it here. I’ve got shit to do, so I’ll see you later.”
I clap him on the shoulder and walk back onto the pitch and call all the kids to me. “We’ve got a couple of minutes left,one more scrum.” I get the ball from them and wait. Before I can start, the bell goes off, and the kids break up, rough-housing and messing around. I see Archie and Rafferty talking again. There are smiles from both of them. I can put that down to testosterone—again! “Showers! No water dodgers, you’re thirteen and stinky!”
The kids all groan, making me laugh. They’re a good bunch.
I make it back to my desk and look at the work piling up; I’m going to need to take it home with me. Papers needed marking, and if I’m honest, it will take my mind off everything to do with Memphis.
There’s a knock on my door, and I look at the time, frowning. I don’t know anyone that wouldn’t call before coming around. After I push the papers further onto the table, making sure nothing is going to topple, I get up and stretch my back.
“Hey, Pops,” I look past him for Dad, but he’s alone. “This is a pleasant surprise, come in. I could do with a break.”
